Ah, young love on a Friday night! It's the weekend, time to let your hair down, relax, have a few drinks...and argue with your significant other.
There's a girl that comes out to the bar who's a fairly regular. She usually hangs out for a couple of hours, gets varying degrees drunk and then she disappears into the night. On this particular night I first saw her on her way to the ladies room. We exchanged pleasantries and salutations and off she went. She'll usually get chatty towards the end of the night when she's looking for a place to refocus her vision and isn't surrounded by a bunch of guys wearing plaid shirts and offering her drinks.
The next time I saw her she was having a problem with some guy on the dance floor. The impression that I got was that he wouldn't leave her and her friends alone. I was stuck on the side door with three things going on at the same time so I had her tell one of the guys on the floor. The upstairs was closed due to in-climate weather so I knew there would be at somebody looking for something to do.
I didn't hear from her again for another couple of hours when the band was on break and random yelling can be heard at the end of the hall. I look around the corner and what to my wondering eye should appear? A drunk girl and a guy in a plaid shirt. The police will tell you the easiest way to deal with a domestic dispute is to let it burn itself out and just play referee when things start to get rough. This is a great philosophy and has served me well on a few occasions. However, you guessed it, I know this drunk girl. I don't know the plaid shirt. But, I remember a complaint about a guy who seemed to have a problem with no.
She seems intent on getting away from him and has managed to get herself into an alcove formed by the barricade we fashioned to block off the upstairs and the bands gear. She has her back to the wall and he's now in front of her blocking the only way out. Ladies, this is NOT tactically advantageous. Stay aware of your surroundings and stay out in the open. He moves in, closing the gap.
I grab this guy by the shoulders and pull him back. At this point there is no hostility, I just want to separate them until I can figure out which way the wind is blowing. I feel his shoulders tense as he whips himself around, his arm ready to cock back. I take half a step back, out of his effective range but still within my own. He looks me straight in the sternum and his eyes track up to my face. At any other time I might have laughed, it was sort of comical since he was only about 5'7. Since I was at work, levity was not an option.
He found the answer to his how-fucked-am-I? question in less that a second and went from hostile to docile in less time than it takes to draw a breath. Suddenly, I have both of them apologizing profusely, she's telling me how this is her boyfriend, he's telling me how they're just trying to sort things out and how they're not normally like this...I stopped listening at some point, I've heard this song before. They go back out to the dance floor.
I see her again on the way to the ladies room. I don't see her again for a while. If it wasn't for her two friends tag teaming, I'd swear that she was ready to start forwarding her mail. She eventually comes back out and everybody leaves.
People wonder sometimes why I don't date anymore. The answer is simple-women are crazy, men are stupid and relationships are merely a series of wrong answers to dumb questions.
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